


Drabble collection pt 1

by Walker_August



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Reader-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 11:05:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walker_August/pseuds/Walker_August
Summary: A series of random requested drabbles, August Walker x reader





	Drabble collection pt 1

Isn’t it typical that just when August gets back from another long mission, you have to leave him for five whole days? As you wake up next to him for the first day in weeks you curse him silently for being in a job that makes it so difficult to schedule your lives around. You shut off the alarm and turn over to face him, taking in the feeling of being next to him again as you always do when he’s back after a while.

You run your fingers lightly over his jawline then gently trace his lips with your thumb, his moustache tickling against it. As he slowly opens his eyes you lean in to kiss him and in response he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to him. “Why is it that I just got back to you and you’re leaving?” August asks, after he’s woken up enough to realise that you have to be at the airport in just a few hours.

“Bad timing, like always” you sigh. This isn’t the first time this has happened and you both know it wont be the last, but neither of you can ever admit to how much of a problem this could become as the relationship keeps moving forward. Instead of stopping to think about it August kisses you again, pulling you practically on top of him and holding you tight to him. One hand runs slowly and lightly down the length of your spine as you kiss, making you crave more.

“Please stay” he whispers and it’s almost begging. “Miss your flight, just stay with me. Just for one more day” he doesn’t try to hide the pleading in his deep voice. You have to look away from him because you want nothing more than to give in and spend five days at home with the man of your dreams but you know you can’t. This trip is a yearly tradition between you and your closest childhood friends, you can hardly cancel on them at the last minute nor do you want to.

“Well…what do I get if I stay?” you ask slyly, deciding to tease because the other option is getting emotional. He grins at you then rolls over so that you’re on your back and he’s above you, and moving your hair away he leans down and kisses your neck right in that spot he knows you like the most.

“Plenty more of that” he murmurs against your neck, his voice husky. A hand moves down your body, caressing you, fingers tracing over your stomach and going just slightly past the waistband of your underwear lingering for a moment before retreating. “And that” he smirks when you let out the quietest moan. “And so much of this” he adds as his lips brush against your jaw before he brings them to yours, kissing you deeply and passionately. He doesn’t think he’ll ever have enough of kissing you.

When you finally break apart you tell him “You made a pretty good case for yourself there”. Admittedly, you want to leave even less now. You look at the clock for a moment, thinking, then back at August who is absentmindedly stroking your hair and watching you. “Ok, you’ve got an hour. Give me some more details” you suggest coyly.

He happily obliges knowing well enough that you’ll still be leaving, deciding at least he can give you something to think about when you’re alone in your hotel each night. You just about make it to the airport on time.

_________________________________________________

Lazing at home with August was what Sunday afternoons were made for. You were sure of it. You’d spent most of the morning in bed followed by him cooking you a delicious late breakfast. By the time you had showered, which took a little longer than normal when he decided to join you, it was already early afternoon. But for once neither of you had plans for the day or anything to be done so you didn’t mind being lazy with each other.

Now, you sit on the couch together. You were reading a book while he typed away on his laptop, but both items have been abandoned in favour of conversation which slowly turns to kissing as you cuddle close together. The way he circles his fingers slowly on your lower back just under the fabric of your t-shirt is comforting and familiar and you sigh happily in to the kiss. As you continue you realise the hair of his mustache tickles your lip more than usual, making you giggle at the feel of it. He stops, wondering why you’re suddenly so amused and you run your fingers lightly over his mustache.

“It’s getting long. It tickles” you laugh, making him chuckle too. “You’d better get it trimmed soon or I won’t be able to kiss you” you tease.

“Well we can’t have that” he replies, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Would you trim it for me?” he asks after a minute, taking you by surprise.

“Really? You trust me to do that?” You ask, genuinely taken aback by the request - it’s unexpected and even though it’s something so small it feels huge to you.

“Of course, I’d trust you with anything” he says softly, kissing you quickly again before getting up to grab the little shaving kit he keeps in his overnight bag. He pulls a chair in to the centre of the living room and sits down, handing you the kit. Why are you suddenly nervous, you wonder as you comb through the hair to straighten it. This feels like such an intimate situation, as he gazes up at you lovingly and with full confidence, and you feel his breath against your fingers. You’re leaning close in to him, his hands lightly resting on the backs of your thighs.

“Don’t distract me” you warn “Or you’ll be walking around with half a mustache”. He tries not to laugh, straightening his face when you give him a look to say you’re about to start. You use the small scissors to evenly trim the hair, making tiny, precise cuts following the line of his lip. He has to stay silent, and you don’t talk either and the quietness only adds to the surprising intimacy of it all. When you’re satisfied you’ve caught all the strays you take his face in your hands and turn his head either way, making sure it isn’t uneven.

Once you’re happy you smooth it down again gently with your fingers and tenderly brush off any loose hairs left on his face. You put down the kit with a satisfied look, moving away to fetch a mirror for him but instead he pulls you back to him and down on to his lap. “Don’t you want to see?” you ask but then he captures your lips in another relaxed, lengthy kiss that makes you giddy.

“Don’t need to” he replies finally “how did that feel?”

“Better” you respond contentedly, eyes still closed, breathing slowly. “But I’d best check again” you simper before pressing your lips against his once more.

___________________________________

It’s late on a Friday night, August is at home on his own watching crappy late night tv with a glass of whisky in hand. At your request he had told you he wouldn’t wait up, when you left for a night out with old friends, but he hadn’t wanted to go to bed without you so here he was waiting. Soon he hears what sounds like a struggle at the door, followed by a violent hiccup before you stumble through the door.

Making his way to the front door to see what sort of state you’re in, August finds you propped against the wall giggling to yourself as you try to take off your shoes without sliding down the wall. “Need some help with those?” He chuckles at your predicament before coming over and helping you out of your shoes. You lean against him and very quietly mumble a thanks in his ear before hiccuping loudly again.

“Well it looks like you had a very good night” he laughs again as he puts his arm around your waist propping you up against him. He all but carries you in to the kitchen while you try to recount your evening, most of it unintelligible. He places you down against the counter while pouring you a glass of water which he offers to you. Luckily for him you’re able to take the glass and drink the water without much fuss, practically downing the whole glass. He takes the glass from you and sets it down. You look up at him before reaching a hand to his face, running your fingers over his moustache.

“You know…” you whisper as if you’re about to tell him a big secret “this moustache is my very favourite thing in the world” you giggle again and it makes him smile. It’s very rare for him to see you this drunk, but he enjoys how happy a drunk you are. He lets you caress his face in a way you think is soft but definitely isn’t for a moment before pulling you to him again.

“Come on then, beautiful, let’s go to bed” he kisses your cheek lightly and then half guides half carries you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the closed toilet seat. You’re vaguely aware of him grabbing your toiletries from the shelf and crouching down in front of you, beginning to take off your make-up. He follows your whole routine and in the correct order too, he’s watched you do this enough times to have the whole thing memorised. It’s incredibly calming even in your state and you feel sort of like you’re at a spa, but a spa where the room is spinning.

“Can you…can you do this every night?” you slur, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. You go in for a peck on the lips but end up kissing the tip of his nose. Close enough. He grins at you then gathers you in his arms and pulls you up. It takes a while but he manages to help you undress and change in to your pyjamas before putting you to bed and getting in next to you.

You turn over to face him, eyes barely open. He knows you’ll be asleep in mere minutes. You run your hands through his hair and whisper “Thanks for taking care of me…” your eyes closing before the end of the sentence.

He caresses your cheek with his thumb and you’re already asleep when he replies “I always will”.

___________________________________________________

It’s the little things that make August love you as much as he does. The way you wake him up with a kiss every morning that he’s there, the way you smile lovingly every time he says your name, the way you touch him with gentle caresses and caring strokes and the way you hold him when he needs it most. August has been in love before, but never like this. He gets butterflies before he walks through the door, even when he’s only been away for a few hours.

August knows you’re it for him on a Thursday afternoon. When you walk through the door of the house you now share having left work early, come to him and pull him close. When you tell him not to worry, that you’re looking out for him, that you care. You had been able to tell that he was suffering, the anxiety surfacing for the first time in years, even though he had made no mention of it - not wanting to cause any worry. No one has ever given August that before, that dedication and attention. It makes him feel whole. It makes him want to be better for you.

Just two days later he’s searching for a ring, the perfect one that reflects your personality best. He spends hours in all kinds of shops until he finds the one, hidden in the depths of a huge, dusty antique store out of town. He doesn’t know when or how he’ll ask you yet, he just knows that you’re the thing his life was missing and he needs you in it for the rest of it. He’s nervous for the first time in ages, hands shaking when he passes his card to the cashier to pay for the ring that will tell you just how much you mean to him.

He spends a week fretting, because he doesn’t want it to be some obnoxious grand gesture, you wont want that and neither does he, but he doesn’t want it to come across as nonchalant. He has the ring is his pocket everywhere he goes with you, just in case, but none of the opportunities that present themselves are quite right. He thinks he’s blown it when you ask why he’s so fidgety, and then you ask if it’s because he’s going to leave again soon - the look on your face making his eyes sting with suppressed tears. 

It gives him doubt, for a moment. Makes him think that you’ll say no because you know he can’t always be there with you. The little voice is pushed away, another manifestation of the anxiety he spent so long gaining control over. You’ve had the conversation countless times, you assure him every time that you don’t mind that he goes away as long as he always, always comes home. It’s a promise he made without a second thought, even though it’s one he shouldn’t have.

One day, a couple weeks later, you go to the little lake trail together - the one you went to on your second ever date. You both need the fresh air after being cooped up in the house all weekend working on redecorating. You stop in your tracks when you spot a little clearing with a view of the lake, the sunshine hitting the water beautifully - a faultless sight that takes your breath away. You pull him close and he wraps his arms around you while you both admire the view. And it’s then, right there, that’s the moment.

August considers getting on one knee but neither of you are sticklers for tradition and it seems unnecessary, he’d rather have you wrapped up in his arms. The words coming out of his mouth weren’t prepared but they’re just right, and he’s looking you deep in the eyes the whole time - never shying away, not scared to hear your answer. Even so his heart almost skips a beat when you say yes, and the ring is slid on to your finger. Your happy laugh warms his soul. He can’t believe his luck at finally finding the person who completes him.

_______________________________________________

August was loathe to admit it, but part of him was glad to have sustained a minor injury on his latest mission resulting in recovery leave. It was so rare at the moment for him to have any time off to himself, it felt like he was being sent on a job every single week. He missed mid-week lie ins, cooking his own meals and just lounging around his apartment with no where to be and no one to kill.

His leave gets even better when you knock on his door a few day in to it. “Hey neighbour! I can’t believe you’re actually home” you say when he opens the door for you “I hardly ever see you around here these days”. August is glad to see you, as always. He finds his days are better when he gets to see you. He invites you in, offering a tea, and you both settle on the couch making pleasant conversation for quite some time before you remember the actual reason you stopped by.

“I’m going away over the weekend, Friday to Sunday, and I was hoping you could look after Coco for me? I hate to ask but it’s either you or 12c, and we both know that wouldn’t end well”

“Of course I will, you know I’m always happy to spend time with him” he answers, genuinely pleased by the request. August can’t have pets of his own, not yet, so getting to look after someone elses is perfect for him. Once everything is arranged you leave, and as August closes the door behind you the unexpected butterflies in his stomach start to dissipate.

On Friday morning you drop off a spare key and a note of where to find everything before heading off on your weekend trip. August makes sure to follow every instruction you gave to the tee, and he also spends most of his time in your apartment bonding with Coco. He lies on the floor playing with him, has regular conversations with him and always ends up with the cat asleep on his lap. It’s the most relaxed August has felt in quite some time, and he’s sure he’s healing quicker than usual because of it too. He’s almost sad to see Sunday come so soon.

When he comes to hand the key back on Sunday night you thank him profusely, offering to pay him for his time, which he politely refuses. The cat comes up and winds around his ankles as you talk, so he crouches down and scratches behind Coco’s ears, still looking up at you. The image of your incredibly handsome neighbour being so gentle and loving with your cat makes you heart flutter, just a little. 

“I’m quite sad that I wont get to see him everyday now, to be honest” August admits to you as he exits your apartment, leaning against the door frame as he looks wistfully on.

“Come over anytime! Anytime you want to see him, I mean it” you respond without a second thought, wanting him to feel welcome and wanting him over again soon.

It doesn’t take long at all because the next evening when he’s sitting in silence reading a book, August hears the light pawing at the door accompanied by small meows. The minute he opens the door the cat is winding around his legs again, purring happily. August can’t keep the smile off his face as he picks up Coco, holding and petting him, before walking over to your apartment and knocking on the door.

It happens three nights in a row, the cat eagerly escaping your apartment to find August, who finds it adorable and never once complains. But by the third night he’s certain the cat has some kind of ulterior motive, especially since August now gets the familiar racing heart and sweaty palms whenever he goes to knock on your door.

“I’m so sorry, he’s a little terror sometimes. He’s lucky he’s so cute” you apologise again, taking the cat from August and snuggling him.

“It’s absolutely fine, keeps me on my feet” he responds, smiling happily at you and reaching down to pet the cat one more time before turning to leave. It’s the little accusing meow that Coco makes as he goes to leave that makes August turn back towards you and finally take the chance. “You know I’m not sure he’s going to stop until I get my act together and ask you out” he admits, playful smile on his lips. “How’s tomorrow night for you?”

“Sounds perfect” you reply, suddenly even more thankful than usual for your wonderful but clearly very interfering cat.


End file.
